


The Prince and the Pipers

by schwartz1e



Category: BomBARDed (Podcast)
Genre: aka what if Raz’ul had stayed in mount tain and randy and yashee are bards that travel w Symbol, im hype for this one yo, prince AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-05-30 15:52:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15100055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwartz1e/pseuds/schwartz1e
Summary: Deep in the forest, Yashe’rak Bordun, Randy Greentrees and Symbol travel as bards, performing across the land as the acclaimed band Symbol and Co.Deep under Mount Tain, Prince Raz’ul, son of Daz’ul, king of the Udalloli clan, finds a guitar hidden below the kingdom.They meet at a birthday party, and the rest, as they say, is history.





	1. Prologue: Symbol and Co Makes a Splash

**Author's Note:**

> Strap in, folks. Let’s see where this goes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Symbol had learned long ago to not trust any random messages from old friends. They were usually asking for either his time or his money, neither of which he had much of anymore. However, when he sees who this note is from, he pauses before throwing it in his campfire.

Symbol had learned long ago to not trust any random messages from old friends. They were usually asking for either his time or his money, neither of which he had much of anymore. However, when he sees who this note is from, he pauses before throwing it in his campfire. The scrawl on the front is immediately recognizable as that of an orc bard he had met in school and travelled with briefly before they parted ways, the orc to pursue a family and Symbol to...well, pursue something else.

Symbol opens the letter and reads about the orc’s daughter, who had recently come into her own as both an accomplished barbarian like her mother and a rising bard like her father. He was wondering if Symbol could take her under his wing, show her the ropes and train her in bardic magics. He said he trusted no one else to do this but Symbol, and wasn’t that something? Symbol couldn’t remember the last time someone trusted him to do anything.

He gives himself a day to think about it. Teaching was one of his old passions. When he was younger he didn’t think there was anything more noble than passing along bardic knowledge to the next generation, to keep that magic alive and continue to dazzle audiences and patrons across the country. Now he knows how the world treats bards, especially young bards, and he’s grown bitter. Still, it may be nice to have a purpose again. To wake up and know he has a job to do, someone to look after, and, more importantly, someone to look after him. He’s an accomplished fighter, but having a barbarian on his side wouldn’t hurt anyone except those who tried to mess with him.

The note Symbol writes back is short and simple. He agrees to take her on as his student, and in exchange he wants her to act as his bodyguard. “No other payment is necessary,” he writes with some hesitation. The orc writes back quickly, clearly elated, giving directions to her camp to Symbol. 

“She’ll be expecting you,” he writes. “You’ll love her, I promise. And I do hope you’ll stay in touch.” 

Symbol, to his surprise, feels a little guilty as he burns the orc’s last note. The orc’s daughter will give him all the updates he needs, Symbol is sure.

It only takes him a few days of travel before he arrives at the half-orc’s campsite. He finds he sitting beside a campfire, tapping out a catchy beat on a flat rock with two hammer mallets. When she sees him, she grins, flashing her tusks at him, and stands. Symbol looks up (and up, and up) at her.

“You must be Symbol! I’m Yashe’rak Bordun,” she says, holding out a hand, “but you can call me Yashee! All my friends do.” Symbol takes her hand and shakes it once.

“Yashe’rak,” he says, “let’s get to work.”

\-------

Yashe’rak is a fast learner. While Symbol is not the most comfortable with percussion instruments, he knows enough to teach her the basics of keeping a beat and how to change the tempo to match the tone of a song. Yashe’rak learns how to play on rocks, on trees, even on her own lap, and how to make the most random of objects sound like drums and cymbals. They trade tales and songs, and even begin to write and play their own compositions together.

Once Yashe’rak feels comfortable, they begin performing in small town taverns. They mostly play old Common folk songs, ones that are sure to get the crowd singing along and drinking more. They make decent wages, too; it helps that Symbol’s name and face are still well-known and recognizable, but Yashe’rak is making her own mark as they continue to travel. People begin to talk about a half-orc bard with the sweetest face and sweeter beats, with a huge appetite and an impressive knack for fresh rhymes. 

One night, after a particularly impressive show where Yashe’rak had taken matters into her own hands and performed a few fast-paced Orcish songs by herself, Symbol finds himself trying to figure out the strange feeling blooming in his chest as he thinks about the half-orc’s confidence and comfort onstage. Since Symbol had met her, she had always exuded a certain pride in herself that Symbol assumed came from her size and strength. But, in the beginning, when it came to her performance, she had a tendency to stay in the background. It was perplexing, to say the least. Seeing her now, though, you would never think that she could ever hide herself onstage. She’s too good, too talented, too secure in her knowledge and her music now.

Symbol is proud.

He makes a small noise of surprise as he puts a name to the feelings, and Yashe’rak looks over at him from her side of their rented tavern room. 

“Are you okay, Symbol?” she asks. He pauses for a second, looks at her, and then nods.

“Yeah,” he says finally. “Yes, Yash--Yashee, I’m fine.” 

\-------

Symbol and Yashee travel together for about three months before they accidentally stumble upon a new band member--literally. 

They’re walking along a forest trail when from the treeline stumbles a tiny figure in ratty clothes, holding a broken mask. An organ is strapped to their back. All three of them stop in shock and spend a moment just staring at each other. 

Finally the small figures fakes to their left and then speeds off to the right, going for Yashee’s legs. Thinking fast, she reaches down and catches them around the waist with both hands. She holds them up to her eye level, at arm’s length. The figure--a halfling, by the looks of him--looks terrified.

“Sorry! Uh, sorry,” they say. “I was just passing through, I’m not gonna...not gonna hurt you or anything, uh as long as you don’t hurt me.” They chuckle a little nervously. Yashee shifts her grip so she’s holding them by the organ strapped to their back with one hand, the other drifting down to rest on her mallets in her pocket. The tiny figure holds up their hands, palms open, dropping the mask in the process. “Seriously, I don’t wanna hurt you both! I just gotta get where I’m going and--hey, put that down!”

Symbol had picked up the mask that had fallen at his feet. He looks at it closely, and quickly recognizes the markings on it. He looks at the halfling sharply.

“You’re a Nowhere Man,” he says, and Yashee draws one of her mallets. Symbol had warned her about the roving band of rogues when they first started travelling together. She’s been waiting for the opportunity to deliver justice on just one of the thieves that harassed innocent travellers. The figure panics, and starts to stammer.

“No, I’m not--! Well, I was, but I, I’m not anymore I swear! I left, that’s why I’m running! Please, don’t hurt me, I swear I’m not one of them any more!” Symbol is unimpressed with their attempts to appease them, and is ready to attack, but then he sees Yashee hesitate. She puts her mallet down.

“I think he’s telling the truth, Symbol,” she says. The halfling visibly relaxes.

“Yes, yes, I am, I swear on my organ that I’m not lying!” they say. Symbol is still suspicious, but sweet, soft-hearted Yashee gently puts the halfling down. Quicker than Symbol can realize, they’ve snatched the mask out of his hands, but they don’t run off just yet. Their eyes are flicking between the two bards, taking in their packs and Yashee’s mallet and Symbol’s recorders. 

“Are you...bards?” they ask. Yashee grins.

“Yeah! Are you?” The figure laughs and smiles back.

“Not yet,” they say, “but I’d like to be. I, uh...got this organ, see?” And they pull the organ around in front of them, pressing on a few keys. The sound rings out in the relative silence of the forest. It’s beautiful and haunting. Even Symbol has to admit that it’s clear the halfling has at least some idea of what he’s doing with the instrument. 

“Whoa,” Yashee, says, wide-eyed and impressed. “Hey, do you wanna come with us? I bet Symbol can teach you how to use that thing, and you can travel and play with us! Right, Symbol?” But before Symbol can protest, the halfling is shaking their head and backing away into the trees.

“I...I can’t. I shouldn’t, I mean,” they say. “The Nowhere Man, they’re...looking for me. I don’t want you guys to get hurt.” Yashee grins and twirls one of her mallets. 

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” she says. “C’mon, what do you say, Symbol? Will you teach him?” 

Symbol looks closely at the halfling. He can see the hesitation in their entire body, but in their eyes is an eager hopefulness. They want to come along, they want to learn how to play. Symbol can practically feel that energy radiating out from the halfling. He sighs. 

“Fine,” he says. “But,” and he points a finger in the halfling’s face, “if we see just one Nowhere Man and we find out you led them to us, we will not protect you. Got it?” The halfling nods, and then grins. 

“Well, then, I guess some introductions are in order,” they say. “I’m Randy, Randy Greentrees. And you’re...Splash, was it?” Symbol frowns.

“It’s--” he starts to say, but Yashee cuts him off.

“Yeah, yep, he’s definitely Splash,” she says, giggling a little, “and I’m Yashe’rak Bordun, but my friends call me Yashee.” Randy smiles. 

“Very nice to meet you, Splash, Yashee,” he says, and starts off down the forest path. “So, where are we heading?”

\-------

To say Symbol was reluctant to teach Randy would be an understatement, but Symbol can’t deny that he’s an eager and quick learner, like Yashee. He can play beautifully, but Symbol discovers that he doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing.

“It’s like...the organ tells me what to do and what keys to press,” he says, “and so I do it. And most of the time it sounds nice.” Yashee laughs while Symbol scowls.

So they go back to the basics, teaching notes and chords and progressions. Yashee taps out a beat while Randy follows along, changing the tempo and style with no warning. Learning each other and their instruments. 

And they sound GOOD. Like, really good. Symbol oftens finds himself taking a backseat to their performances almost accidentally, sometimes just enraptured by the way Yashee and Randy play together and play off of each other. Like they were made to be bards together. 

Symbol feels pride stirring in his chest again, but this time he lets himself bask in the warm glow of it.

They travel together for months, playing in every town they stop in, making quite the name for themselves. And it’s kind of a dumb name, yeah, but Randy thought of it himself, and he was just so proud of it that Symbol couldn’t crush him like that, and so Symbol and Co. travels the countryside, playing for bigger and bigger crowds. 

It’s no surprise when they begin to get actual invitations to perform in different locations around the world. What is a surprise is a certain invite that arrives one day on sturdy gray cardstock.

Yashee gets ahold of the card first, reading the thick, blocky handwriting with some difficulty.

“Hey, Splash,” she says finally.

“It’s Symbol,” he responds automatically, but she continues over him: “Where’s Mount Tain?” He frowns.

“Mount Tain?” he says, thinking for a moment. “That’s north, I think. The dwarven kingdom of the Udalloli clan lives there. Why?” Yashee holds the card out to him.

“We’ve been invited to play at Prince Raz’ul’s birthday celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @fully-realized-creation
> 
> Twitter: @schwartzie7
> 
> I love you.


	2. Prologue: Prince Raz’ul and the No Good, Very Bad Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Raz’ul, son of Daz’ul, King of the Udalloli clan under Mount Tain, was born during a storm, though none of the dwarves in the mountain knew this.

Prince Raz’ul, son of Daz’ul, King of the Udalloli clan under Mount Tain, was born during a storm, though none of the dwarves in the mountain knew this. Thunder clapped and lightning struck the top of the mount just as Raz’ul came into the world screaming and crying. He was immediately handed off to a nurse. His mother never held him again.

He was the youngest, shortest and weakest of five princes. His parents treated him with a vague indifference, which, he supposed as he grew older, was better than being treated with outright disdain. When his brothers were praised for their skill in fighting or art or potpourri making, Raz’ul was often quite literally shoved to the side. He grew used to a life lived in the shadows. 

It was in these shadows that he discovers the secret treasure of the Udalloli clan, hidden deep beneath Mount Tain, even deeper than where the dwarves of his clan live. It is an axe--or he thinks it’s an axe? It certainly looks like an axe. The blade is shiny and sharp, intricately inlaid with runes that Raz’ul doesn’t recognize. The handle is beautifully made as well, but oddly flat on one side. Strings stretch from the blade to the top of the handle, and when Raz;ul touches them they ring out with the most amazing sound that the young prince has ever heard. It’s a guitar, he realizes. An instrument of music and magic and destruction, all in one. 

Raz’ul takes a step back, suddenly worried about the fact that he should not be here, he should be upstairs, in the library with his tutor--but as he turns to leave he feels a pull in his heart. Sweet music fills his head and it feels like he’s floating. He turns back to the axe, and the runes on the blade are glowing slightly. 

It calls to him. 

He stays a little longer.

\-------

He returns to the guitar every day, too nervous to take it down from it’s stand, but bold enough to just sit there for hours, occasionally touching the strings, discovering different sounds and tones. Raz’ul gets away with this for months. He finds out through some careful and secret research that the axe is called Usumptin, and has apparently rested beneath Mount Tain for generations. It does not call for him again as strongly as it did the first time he visited, but he still feels a pull toward it, deep in his heart. 

The day he is caught is the worst day of his life. Unbeknownst to the prince, his constant absences had finally caught the attention of his tutors, the servants, and finally his brothers and the king, who is furious. 

The next time Raz’ul makes the journey down to Usumptin, he is met by three guards. Two of them grab his arms and forcibly drag him back up to his father’s kingdom, while the other follows behind, occasionally poking Raz’ul with his spear when he loses his footing and stumbles. 

They throw him down in front of King Daz’ul’s throne like he’s some sort of criminal. He tries to stand, to have some dignity before his father for once in his life, but one of the guards pushes him back down into his knees. 

Raz’ul looks up at the king.

The king does not spare a glance for him.

Daz’ul keeps his eyes focused on a tapestry next to the throne. It’s beautifully woven, depicting his father’s father’s rise to power and their overtaking of Mount Tain from the beasts that had inhabited it before them. Raz’ul had heard the story many times over, during his lessons and the few times Daz’ul had attempted to make his son a respectable dwarf like his brothers. 

This time the king does not recount the story. Instead, he sighs. And then, he speaks.

“Do you enjoy disappointing me, Raz’ul?” The prince is too shocked by the question to answer, but his father presses on. “I never wanted to believe it before, but it seems that truly, the only thing you are good at is being unfit to live as a prince. I keep giving you chances, opportunity after opportunity to prove yourself, and each time you fail. And now, you do...this? Travel down to the farthest reaches of our great Mount, to play with the great Axe Usumptin like it’s a toy? Explain yourself. Now.” 

Raz’ul says nothing. How can he put into words the feeling he gets when he’s with the Axe, how it calls to him, asks him to play it, to make music with it? Daz’ul’s frown deepens and he finally looks down at his son. 

“Raz’berry,” he says and Raz’ul can’t help the way his eyebrows raise and his jaw drops. His father had not used that nickname with him since he was much younger, when his father still had hope for him, when there was still the possibility that Raz’ul could become the perfect warrior dwarf prince that Daz’ul wanted. 

“Raz’berry,” Daz’ul says again, softer this time. He stops and thinks for a moment, and then shakes his head, as though dismissing whatever thought had come to him. He shifts in his throne, and when he speaks again, his voice is back to his usual gruffness. “Your brothers want to throw a party, soon. For the clan. And your birthday is coming up. Your mother and I thought it might nice to give you a birthday celebration. Hire some travelling bands to perform, and the cooks will make a feast. How does that sound?” 

Raz’ul waits for the catch but he knows his father, knows the unspoken suggestion. If he agrees to this party, he agrees to stay away from Usumptin. Even now, Raz’ul can feel the pull inside of him, reaching down toward the axe. Raz’ul thinks. Then he nods.

If it’s a perfect prince his father really wants, then it’s a perfect prince he’ll get. Or at least, so it will appear. 

Daz’ul nods and then waves a hand, dismissing him. Raz’ul finally stands and exits the throne room. He is calm as he walks away, looking for all intents and purposes like he is on his way to his quarters. However, once he is certain he is not being followed, he runs. 

Raz’ul does not stop running until he is standing in front of Axe Usumptin again.He’s panting as he finally gives in to the pull and takes the axe off of it’s stand. The runes glow again as he arranges the strap on his shoulder. 

Then he plays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @fully-realized-creation
> 
> Twitter: @schwartzie7
> 
> I love you


	3. Prologue: Rainbow Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family. Home. Found. Almost.

Axe Usumptin’s music flows from underneath Mount Tain. Though Raz’ul is too far below the mountain for the sound to travel very far, the vibrations it sends out into the world reverberates over and over, stretching across the great plains and reaching deep into the forest, echoing into the astral plane and beyond. 

In the forest, Yashee and Randy sleep. Their instruments lay next to them. Symbol is keeping watch. 

Soon enough, Usumptin’s vibrations reach the bards, and Symbol stares as Yashee’s mallets and Randy’s organ glow with a bright blue light. The bards do not wake up, but they smile in their sleep.

Back beneath Mount Tain, Raz’ul lets the axe control where his fingers land and how he strums. He stares as the axe glows brighter than it ever has before. He feels that pull in his heart again, but this time it is reaching far, far away, beyond the mountain, and into the forest. 

It feels like family. 

It feels like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @fully-realized-creation
> 
> Twitter: @schwartzie7
> 
> I love you.


	4. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bards perform. A prince watches. Destinies intertwine.

The bards’ journey to Mount Tain is thankfully uneventful, save for the occasional tantrums Randy throws. To say he is unenthused about visiting a kingdom and performing for a “bunch of stuffy royals” would be an understatement. Symbol is running out of reasons to try and convince him that it will be worth it. Apparently four days and five nights of good meals, soft beds and a solid paycheck at the end of it all doesn’t make up for the fact that he does not trust or like anyone with more money than him--so most of the country’s population.

“All they’re doing by giving us food and a place to sleep is showing off that they have more stuff than us,” he says from his usual perch on Yashee’s shoulder. “They’re rubbing it in. I don’t like that.” Symbol rolls his eyes.

“So you’ve said, Randy,” he says. “Unfortunately, we really need this job, so we’re all going to suck it up and perform our best and eat as much as we can, and deal with it.” Randy sighs and leans an elbow on top of Yashee’s head, slumping over dramatically. 

“They’re not even gonna pay attention to what we play,” Randy whines. “They’re gonna sit there, on their gold thrones, with their gold clothes, eating gold food, and ignore us. It’s pointless.” Symbol suddenly gets an idea, and stops and turns to face his students.

“That all may be true,” he says slowly, “but you know that means there will be a bunch of gold to steal, too. And expensive things to break. And a bunch of other things to mess with. Taking a king’s precious silverware or destroying an expensive tapestry or painting will really stick it to the man. But if you really want to turn back…” Symbol starts to walk toward Yashee and Randy, but he is stopped by a large half-orc hand on his chest. He looks up and sees matching mischievous smiles on Yashee and Randy’s face.

“I guess I can deal with it if it ends with some royals getting royally screwed,” Randy says. “Let’s go, come on, we’re burning daylight!” 

\------- 

As per tradition, the party planning happens largely without any input from Prince Raz’ul. His birthday parties had never really been about him as far as he could remember, and so taking a backseat for this one came naturally. His parents arre preoccupied with sending out notices to the various well-known bands around the area, while his brothers spend their time in the kitchens, planning and reviewing and tasting the different courses for the feast. 

Raz’ul wanders the castle and watches the servants decorate and clean. He still feels the pull toward Axe Usumptin, and to a lesser degree the pull outside of Mount Tain, but he resists. He has not returned to see the Axe since he played it. The song has embedded itself into his head, though, and he often has to stop himself from humming it around his father for fear he will ask where it came from. But as Raz’ul watches his party come together around him, he finds that the song is the only source of comfort he has. 

The day before the celebration is scheduled to begin, Daz’ul summons his sons into the throne room to preview the bards that will perform. This is as much of an opportunity for the bards to really prove themselves worthy to perform for the royal family as it is a chance for the king and queen to finalize the order in which the bards will perform and for how long. Raz’ul anticipates hearing a lot of traditional folks songs in botched Dwarvish or cheesy original tunes from performers who think they’re better than they actually are. It’s going to be boring as hell, and Raz’ul is not looking forward to it.

When he enters the throne room with his brothers, he sees that their thrones have been positioned in front of the king and queen’s. He automatically drifts toward his usual seat, the one on the farthest end that is almost hidden behind a support pillar, when he father calls out to him and stop him.

“Sit in the center chair, Raz’ul,” Daz’ul says. “These are the performers for your party after all, you should see and hear them the best.” Raz’ul is shocked but says nothing, recognizing that this is Daz’ul’s subtle way of saying that he’s noticed that Raz’ul has stayed away from Usumptin like he promised. It’s supposed to be a reward, but as Raz’ul walks past his brothers and feels their contemptuous glares, he knows that Daz’ul has set him up for punishment later. 

It takes less than three full performances before Raz’ul starts to zone out. The bands are okay at best, trying to impress the family by casting Dancing Lights and Prestidigitation but overall, they’re forgettable. Raz’ul politely claps when everyone else does, but he isn’t really listening anymore. Axe Usumptin’s song floats into his head again, and he taps his fingers on the arm of his chair to the beat. 

He doesn’t know how many more bands perform before there is one that catches his eye. The bards that walk in are a motley crew if Raz’ul ever saw one--a human, a halfling, and a half-orc who towers over everyone in the room. The human leads them in with the swagger and confidence of someone who has been performing for a very long time. The halfling is inspecting the throne room, and the half-orc has a sweet, almost absent-minded smile on her face as they approach the thrones. 

They don’t have an exaggerated and superfluous speech planned to introduce themselves like the other bands do. The three of them simply bow, and then, they begin to play.

Before holding Axe Usumptin, Raz’ul didn’t truly understand what it meant to be moved by music. But now, as he listens to these bards play and makes eye contact with the halfling and the half-orc in turn, and feels the Axe’s pull grow that much stronger, something inside of him clicks. 

He had always know he had been missing...something in his life. A sense of purpose. A family that cared about him. Something to do, someone to love. There had been a longing in Prince Raz’ul’s heart for something more his whole life, and he had simply gotten so accustomed to it that he didn’t feel it anymore; it was a constant emptiness settled deep within him. The music these bards play, though, the way their voices intertwine and the instruments ring out, Raz’ul can feel that hole in his heart begin to fill. 

Raz’ul sits there, wide eyed, his hands gripping the arms of his throne so tightly his knuckles turn white. He is afraid to move, lest this feeling disappears, lest his father notice and blame the Axe, lest his father makes these bards stop playing sooner than they have to. 

When their performance is over, they bow again and turn and leave. Raz’ul stays still, not even clapping with his family. He thinks that if he lets go of his chair, he won’t be able to stop himself from running after the band and begging them to teach him to play. He watches them go and the next band enters, but Raz’ul doesn’t notice. All he can pay attention to is the way the emptiness returns as the bards walk further and further away.

\-------

As soon as the throne room doors close behind Symbol and Co., Randy whirls around to face his bandmates, furious. 

“He couldn’t even clap for us?” he exclaims. Symbol shushes him but Randy pays him no mind, stalking down the corridor as fast as his legs can take him. Symbol and Yashee keep pace easily. “He sits there, looking bored out of his royal mind, and then doesn’t even have the manners to clap at the end?! He looked like he was in pain! Were we THAT bad?!” 

“I thought we sounded pretty good,” Yashee says. She tries to hide it, but Symbol can see the disappointment in her face. The prince insulted them, most definitely, but it’s not his opinion that matters.

“The king and queen applauded,” he tells his students as they arrive at their rooms. “They’re the important ones. Once they announce the show order and the approved lengths for the set lists, we’ll know for sure what their opinion of us is. Until then, there’s nothing we can do. I’ll see you at dinner and we’ll discuss what we’re performing then.” He shuts the door to his room in their face, and Randy and Yashee begrudgingly enter their room. 

Once they are settled, Randy notices Yashee is sitting on her bed, just staring at their bedroom door with a slight frown on her face. He goes over and hops up next to her. She automatically shifts so he’s snuggled up comfortably under her arm but doesn’t look at him.

“What’s up, Yashee?” he asks. Yashee leans her head back until it hits the wall with a soft “thunk.” 

“When we were performing,” she starts, speaking slowly and quietly, “did you notice anything weird?” Randy’s brow furrows.

“Other than the prince totally ignoring all of our hard work?” he says, but Yashee is shaking her head before he’s even finished his question.

“I don’t think he was ignoring us,” she says. “The whole time we were playing, he couldn’t take his eyes off of us. He wasn’t like...zoning out or something, he was really into it.” Randy rolls his eyes.

“Okay, so then what do you mean by ‘weird’?” Yashee finally shifts her gaze away from door and stares down at him.

“When we started playing, I felt like...like there was something we were missing. But whatever we were looking for was right there. I just can’t figure out what it was.” 

Randy thinks back to their performance. Everything had seemed normal. They had practiced these songs enough on their way here so they sounded next to perfect. Randy had even finally nailed a particularly tricky bit of note-work that had been giving him some trouble. He couldn’t think of anything that was strange or off about the whole performance.

Unless…

Unless Yashee is talking about how empty the song sounded. How it sometimes felt like Randy needed to hang back and let another instrument or voice step in but there was no one there. How there was something in his chest that was pulling at him, pulling him toward something. But to what? 

Randy nods and snuggles that much closer to Yashee. 

“What do you think it means?” he asks. Yashee shrugs.

“I dunno. But I wanna find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @fully-realized-creation
> 
> Twitter: @schwartzie7
> 
> I love you.


	5. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A celebration begins. The prince meets the pipers.

Raz’ul’s party begins without him, as is customary. After he had sat through the last of the bands, he started faux casually wandering the castle in hopes of “accidentally” running into the bards he had been so enamored by. He is too nervous to ask any of the servants or guards where their rooms are, plus he never even got the name of their group. He wanders around until the moon is high in the sky above the mountain before finally giving up and retiring to bed. 

He wakes up late, but he can hear the celebration from his room. Mount Tain practically shakes with the sounds of the Udalloli dwarves cheering and singing and drinking and eating. Raz’ul dresses quickly, fearing that he has missed the band’s performance, and runs to the main hall.

His clan is well into the feast already. Raz’ul sighs in relief when he doesn’t recognize the band currently performing, and sets off for the raised dais where he can see his parents and his brothers eating and drinking. As soon as he sits down at the far end of the table, a servant fills his mug with ale and puts a plate full of food down in front of him. They don’t even bow to him like they do to his brothers. The ale tastes sour. 

For a few minutes, his family eats in relative silence, but then, from his right, Raz’ul hears two of his brothers discussing the band that is currently performing, a group of three half-elves. 

“I don’t understand my Mom and Dad let these guys perform,” says one before shoving a forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth, continuing his sentence with his mouth full. “They hide how terrible they are behind all of those fancy spells.”

“All of the bands did that, Dank’ul,” the other answers. “Well, except that one. Remember? The band with the half-orc?” Raz’ul stops chewing. There was only one band that had a half-orc in it that he knew of. He subtly leans to the side to try and hear better.

“Oh, yeah!” Dank’ul responds. “They were awesome. What was their name? Splash and something?”

“No, Symbol and Co. The little one just called the human Splash for some odd reason.”

Raz’ul stops listening. He covers his mouth with his napkin to hide his smile. He knows their name now! He just has to find out when they’ll be performing. A servant comes by to put the next course in front of him, and before they can leave he puts a hand on their arm.

“Do you have the list of bards that are performing written down somewhere?” Raz’ul asks quietly. The servant nods. “Bring it to me, but don’t let Daz’ul see, okay?” The servant nods again, looking somewhat afraid at the prospect of hiding something from the king, but runs off regardless. Raz’ul waits for their return impatiently. His leg shakes under the table but he eats and drinks like he normally would, pretending to listen to the bards but constantly on the lookout for the ones he really wants to see, just in case they’re wandering around. It doesn’t look like any of the bands are here in the hall, however. They must be waiting for their turn to perform in a separate room. 

Finally the servant returns, under the pretense of refilling Raz’ul’s ale. They drop a rolled up piece of parchment in his lap and nod once before running off again. Raz’ul smiles slightly and slips it in his pocket. 

He doesn’t have a chance to look at it until the feast is over and the royal family leaves the dais to mingle with their guests and dance. Symbol and Co. still haven’t performed. Raz’ul slips behind a column and carefully unrolls the parchment, scanning it quickly. He recognizes a few of the band names and thankfully it looks like the list is written down in performance order. Finally, he finds them; Symbol and Co. is scheduled to perform tonight, and they have the longest set out of all the bands. Raz’ul smiles, rolls the parchment back up and puts it back in his pocket. Maybe he can get them to sign it after their performance. 

\-------

Symbol and Co. are ecstatic that they’re the main headliner on the first day of the party. They are less than enthused about the makeshift waiting room that the royal family has prepared for all of the bands, however.

The day’s performers are all packed together in a large storage room off of the main hall. There’s barely enough room for the bards to move around comfortably, let alone practice, but the other bands try their damndest to practice regardless. They’re all nervous. Symbol and Co. can feel the tension in the air, but they ignore it, for the most part.

“These people care too much,” Randy says loud enough for the other bands in the vicinity to hear him. “It’s just a dumb birthday party for a dumb stuck up prince. This isn’t how you get your big break.” A few bards shoot him dirty looks, but he just smiles and waves at them. 

“Randy, c’mon,” Yashee admonishes gently, “it’s a big deal to some people to get to perform in front of a king and queen! Let them be excited.” Randy rolls his eyes but shuts up and goes back to carving a stick figure version of himself and his bandmates into the dirt floor. Symbol leans forward and drops his voice into a whisper. 

“Find anything good to steal yet, Randy?” he says. Randy doesn’t reply. He simply reaches into his pocket and drops a few gold chains with large pendants on the floor above his drawing. Yashee laughs. 

“Where did you even find those?” she asks. Randy glances up at her and simply grins and places a finger to his lips. He puts the necklaces back in his pocket. 

“There’s even more valuable stuff in that main hall, I can feel it,” he says. “We gotta scope out the place while we perform and try and break in before we leave. I’m thinkin’ we can swipe at least one tapestry, maybe a small statue or two.” He finishes his drawing with a flourish and sits back, smiling. Then his brow furrows and he cocks his head to the side. He reaches down and places a finger next to each of the figures, then does it again.

“Huh, weird,” he says. “I thought I only drew three people. I must’ve lost track of what I was drawing.” Yashee and Symbol both lean over to get a closer look, and sure enough Randy has drawn four stick figures--a tall one for Yashee, the next tallest for Symbol, the tiniest one for himself, and then one other, slightly taller than Randy’s figure. 

“You drew him a weird height, too,” Yashee says. Randy nods, confusion still written all over his face. He gently places a hand next to the figure. Suddenly, a voice echoes in the storage room.

“Symbol and Co., on deck!” they yell. “Symbol and Co., five minutes!” Symbol stands and stretches. 

“Alright, kids, let’s get warmed up,” he says, and they make their way to the storage room door to wait. 

They stretch and briefly warm up their voices and soon enough, they’re walking onto the stage to thunderous applause. They don’t introduce themselves, or do any sort of flashy entrance; they learned long ago that they don’t need anything like that. Symbol and Co. simply bow, raise their instruments, and play.

They have an eclectic mix of songs prepared, ranging from dwarvish folk songs to ballads to rowdy bar tunes, and in between they have a natural rapport full of good-natured quips and digs at themselves and the audience. The crowd adores everything.

As they play, Randy keeps an eye out for any valuables that the royal family keeps in the hall. He spies a few tapestries, which he expected, but the one he really eyes up is near the front of the hall, behind the dais where they king and queen and princes sat to eat dinner. It’s masterfully woven, depicting some epic fight between dwarves and hideous creatures. Randy has to have it and makes a mental note for them to return for it. As he continues scanning the room, his eyes land on the last person he wants to see--Prince Raz’ul. 

The prince is standing near a column at the back of the room, almost in the shadows. He has a slight grin on his face and he looks absolutely enthralled by their performance. Randy glances over at Yashee who is already staring at him. She has a self-satisfied smile on her face, and Randy knows she saw the prince too. He looks back and actually locks eyes with the prince, and Randy suddenly feels that pull again, that longing that he and Yashee had been talking about the night before. He watches as the prince’s smile falters a little and he puts a hand on his chest, right near his heart. Exactly where Randy can feel...something tugging at him. 

They stare at each other for a while, and then Randy gives him a quick nod. Raz’ul’s eyes widen a little, and he simply nods back. They finish the song and bow. When Randy looks back up, the prince has disappeared. The pull vanishes with him.

They finish their set. Nothing else out of the ordinary happens, and the crowd adores them. Before they leave the hall, they are actually intercepted by the king himself, who asks them if they wouldn’t’ mind stepping in and performing the next night, once again as the main headliner, to replace a band that had up and left with no warning. He also invites them to stay in the hall as special guests to the royal family and enjoy the second part of the feast that will be served in just a few minutes. Symbol and Co. agree quickly. They put their instruments away, keeping them in the storage room for safety, and then return to the great hall, where they are immediately bombarded with praise from every dwarf in the hall. They spend quite a while making their way around the room, answering questions and accepting handshakes and congratulations from all of the guests. Finally, they manage to grab some food and find a quiet corner in the back of the hall near a support column to breathe and eat. 

“Psst.” Yashee looks up. 

“Did you guys here something?” she asks. Symbol and Randy stop and listen and sure enough there’s another quiet, “Psst! Over here!” She turns toward the column they’re sitting by and can just barely make out a shape in the shadows.

“Prince Raz’ul?” she says. The figure shushes her and creeps closer. Now the bards can see that it is, indeed, the prince, and they dutifully put their plates down and stand and bow. He seems shocked. 

“Uh...right,” he says, “yeah, it’s me. Um, hi.” The bards say nothing. Symbol and Randy have similar skeptical looks on their faces, while Yashee just looks mildly confused. The prince clears his throat. 

“Right,” he says again. “Uh, I just wanted to...to say how great I think you guys are. Not to be like, weird or anything, I just, uh, really like your music and I think you’re really talented and it’s super cool how great you guys sound and how you can all play together and play so well--” He stops himself, apparently realizing that he’s rambling. He takes a deep breath and then nods once. “So, uh, anyway, I should let you guys relax. Sorry. Thanks.” He turns to leave.

“Oh, Prince Raz’ul!” Yashee says suddenly. He turns back to look at her. “Happy birthday, by the way!” She grins. He looks shocked, and then he smiles softly, laughing a little.

“Wow. Uh, thanks. I actually kind of forgot,” Raz’ul says. “You’re, uh, the first person to wish me a happy birthday. So, thanks.” 

Randy and Symbol are pretty sure they can hear Yashee’s soft heart break from where they’re sitting. She reaches out a hand and grabs his shoulder.

“Wait! Sit with us for a little bit. Eat something. We’d love to talk to you.” Raz’ul beams, and then looks worried. He looks quickly around the hall, and then back at the bards. 

“Are you sure? You don’t mind?” he asks. Yashee is already pulling a chair up for him from a nearby table, positioning it so that it’s hidden from the rest of the room by the column. 

“C’mon, sit down,” she says. “Don’t worry, no one will be able to see you if you sit there.” Prince Raz’ul beams once again and sits. 

“So, do you play anything?” Yashee asks. The prince looks frightened for a moment, but he quickly schools his features. He scratches the back of his head.

“Not, uh, not really,” he says. “I’ve played...uh, that is, I’ve thought about playing guitar? But I haven’t...really...done that.” 

“Why not?” Randy asks snidely. “The king can’t afford to get his own son guitar lessons?” Raz’ul looks down at the floor. Randy can see his jaw tighten and his hands grip the edge of the chair. 

“No,” the prince says quietly. “No, he can’t.” He stands abruptly. “I should go, I’ve stayed here too long--”

This time it’s Symbol who stops the prince from leaving, a plan forming in his mind. It’s not a kind plan, but it’ll provide some sliver of entertainment for him and Randy, at least.

“I have a lute, in my bag,” Symbol says. “If you’d like, I could try to teach you something, right now. See how well you do.” Raz’ul stops walking and thinks for a moment. Then he slowly sits back down. 

Symbol reaches into his bag and rummages around for a minute. He has to go about shoulder deep before he finally grabs a hold of the neck of his lute and pulls it out. He places it on his lap and gets in a comfortable playing position.

“Something easy to start with, alright?” he says. He plays a few chords, warming up his fingers, and then suddenly jumps into a complicated strumming pattern paired with quick chord changes. Raz’ul watches, entranced. Symbol only plays for about a minute and then hands the lute over to the prince. He takes it, holding it gingerly. Randy and Symbol exchange a glance, both trying to hide smirks. They prepare for the worst. Prince Raz’ul takes a deep breath, and then plays.

Symbol and Randy’s smirks fade quickly. The prince is...good. Just from watching Symbol, he was able to pick up the song easily. He flubs the strumming once or twice, but he doesn’t let it stop him. When he finishes, Symbol and Co. are just staring at him in slight awe. Prince Raz’ul is smiling. 

“Was that okay?” he asks. Before Symbol can say anything, Randy laughs and cheers and Yashee bursts into applause.

“That was awesome, dude!” Randy says. “You’ve really never had lessons before?” Raz’ul shakes his head and Randy laughs again. “Amazing. Amazing! A little more work and he could be a pro, huh, Splash?” Symbol composes himself and simply shrugs. 

From the larger hall the guests applaud and cheer, and then they head toward the exits. The look of pure fear returns to Raz’ul’s face and he stands. He shoves the lute at Symbol.

“I have to go!” he says, panicked. “I hope they didn’t...No, probably not. But, uh. Yeah. I have to go. Thank you all, so much.” He walks as far as the column but then stops and turns back to Symbol and Co.

“Will you still be here tomorrow?” he asks quietly. “Can I...can I come back?” Yashee and Randy grin.

“Yeah, of course!” Yashee says. “Next time, you can play with all of us!” Raz’ul smiles and the bards swear they see his eyes glisten briefly with tears. The prince rubs at his face, nods, and then runs into the hall. They lose sight of him in the huge crowd. 

“Well,” Symbol says. “That sure was something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @fully-realized-creation
> 
> Twitter: @schwartzie7
> 
> I love you.


	6. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate is a stronger force than the prince and the pipers realize. They play, they plan, they prepare.

Raz’ul almost makes it back to his room with no issue. He turns the corner, heart pounding, Usumptin’s melody mixing with the song he had played in the great hall, when he runs straight into someone and falls back on the ground. He looks up and is met with the stern gaze of King Daz’ul.

His heart drops. He scrambles to his knees, his head bowed.

“Raz’ul,” Daz’ul says, “I lost track of you after the feast. Where were you?” 

“I, I was in the hall, sir,” Raz’ul says. “I swear, I--”

“No one saw you in the hall,” Daz’ul growls. “I swear, if you went to see the axe again--”

“I didn’t!” Raz’ul interrupts, looking up at his father. Then he swallows hard and glances back down at his knees. His hands clench into fists. No one yells at King Daz’ul and survives, usually. For a while there is silence above him. Then his father sighs.

“I will believe you, just this once,” he says. “But for the rest of the celebration I’m going to be keeping a close eye on you. Understand?” Raz’ul nods. His father walks around him, back down the hall. Raz’ul waits to stand until he can no longer hear his footsteps. His hands are shaking. 

As he pushes open the door, his breath quickens and tears begin to drip down his face. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. Raz’ul has had panic attacks before but never one this strong. He barely makes it over to his bed before he collapses, hyperventilating and crying. Seeing Symbol and Co. again tomorrow was going to be the highlight of his entire birthday celebration. If his father was watching him, he wouldn’t be able to get away to play with them like the half-orc had promised. Unless...unless he was incredibly sneaky about it. He focused on taking deeper breaths as a plan solidified in his mind. He stood up to wash his face and rang a bell to call a servant to his room.

\-------

After Symbol and Co.’s performance the next evening, they return to the storage room like they did the night before, to keep their instruments safe. The room is empty; they were the last band to perform. As they’re arranging their bags and equipment near a group of grain barrels, one of them starts to shake. Immediately, Yashee has her hammer mallets out of her bag again and Randy slips behind her in case they need a sneak attack. They all watch the barrel as it quivers again, and then the top flies off, and Prince Raz’ul pops out gasping for air.

“Okay...should’ve left the top cracked a little...I know for next time,” he mumbles, and then turns to look at the band. They’re staring at him in shock, Yashee still poised to attack. The prince waves awkwardly and says, “Uh...hi.” 

Symbol is the first one to compose himself and he bows. Yashee and Randy follow suit. Raz’ul climbs out of the barrel and lands in front of them, dusting stray bits of rice off his tunic. 

“Yeah, uh, thanks, I guess,” he says. “Uh, listen, I don’t have long because my dad will have noticed I’m gone, but I really wanted to play with you guys, so I had a servant tell me where y’all kept your instruments and hid in here. I can’t go out to the hall, so could we maybe play here? If you still want to, I mean. You don’t have to. I can just go.” He starts to back toward the door. Yashee is shaking her head, though, and Randy steps out from behind her and bounds toward the prince. 

“No, no, please stay! We’ve been looking forward to this, it’s totally alright!” he says, grabbing the prince’s hand. Raz’ul recoils like he’s been slapped, yanking his hand out of the halfling’s grasp and clutching it to his chest. There’s a tense moment where the two just stare at each other for a moment. Then, Prince Raz’ul forces out a very fake laugh.

“Uh, sorry,” he says. “Sorry. I’m not used to, uh...I just don’t like people touching me. A lot. Sorry.” Randy nods slowly. There’s still a lot of tension in the air, until Symbol sits down and pulls the lute and his recorders out from his bag.

“Well, come on, then,” he says, “we don’t have a lot of time, like the prince said. Let’s see what we can all do together.” Randy sits down next to him, glad to be free of the awkward situation he had gotten himself into, and Yashee grabs a few barrels, testing out their sound with her mallets. Raz’ul takes the lute and sits, too, leaving some space between himself and the bards. 

“Why don’t we begin with some improv? Yashee, start us off, please.” The half-orc nods and grins, and then begins to tap out a simple beat on the barrels. Randy comes in next with a beautiful melody. Raz’ul just listens, waiting for Symbol to hop in first, but the human nods at him. The prince gulps and nods back. He waits a few more beats, gets a chord ready, and then he plays.

Almost immediately the atmosphere between them shifts. The three performers gasp as they all simultaneously feel something in their chests tighten and then release. Yashee and Randy’s instruments glow faintly with a blue light and they’re all shocked, of course, but they feel compelled to keep playing. Despite the strangeness of what’s happening, they’re almost overwhelmed by the deep sense of calm that overtakes them. This feels right. Perfect. Harmonious. 

They end the song and the glow fades. They spend a moment glancing at each other, and then all at once their attention is focused on Symbol, their eyes wide, questions racing through each of their minds. Symbol, on the other hand, looks incredibly calm, maybe even a little self-satisfied. He nods and puts his recorders back in his bag.

“What you’ve just experienced,” he says, “is ensemble magic. It’s a very powerful form of bardic magic that occurs between a group of bards that have a connection beyond just the one here, in the material plane. The instruments you two have,” and here he gestures to Yashee and Randy, “are magical enough in their own right so they help to enhance the effects of the magic while you, my lord,” and he inclines his head toward Raz’ul, “were just playing with a regular old lute. If you had an instrument that had innate magical ability...well, I can’t even imagine the things y’all could do together. Not only stellar performances, but extremely powerful spells as well.” He pauses for a second with a far-away look in his eyes. “It’s been...years since I’ve met anyone who’s been able to use this magic, and I don’t think any of them were as young or as relatively untrained as y’all are. The potential that y’all have is...well, it’s certainly something.” 

Randy, Yashee and Prince Raz’ul are all looking down at their instruments now. Yashee and Randy have similar looks of awe and excitement on their faces, whereas Raz’ul just looks...worried. Or scared?

“Are you alright, Prince Raz’ul?” Symbol asks. Raz’ul thinks for a moment, and then shakes his head slowly. He puts the lute down on the floor and stands, backing away like it’s a wild animal that’s going to attack him at any moment. 

“I have to go,” he says quietly. “I can’t...I just have to go.” 

“Wait, Raz’ul--!” Randy calls but the prince has already run out of the room. The door slams behind him. There’s a long moment of silence. Then, Randy turns to face his teacher and his friend, the hint of a smile on his face and a glint of malice in his eye.

“I have a plan,” he says.

\-------

Despite Daz’ul’s threat, no one comes looking for Raz’ul, and he slips back into the great hall easily. The rest of the party passes, but Raz’ul doesn’t remember it. He can’t get the song that he and Symbol and Co. played out of his head. He can’t stop thinking about how the lute felt in his hands, how powerful he felt, how calm, how free. Raz’ul had never known such a deep peace in his life. And what he wouldn’t give to get that feeling again! But then he sees Daz’ul, and his heart sinks a little, because he can’t just up and become a bard. He would lose everything he has...though, he supposes he doesn’t really have a lot to lose. Regardless, could he leave his family like that? Would they notice or care? 

Raz’ul is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t realize the party ends until he looks up and finds himself in front of the door to his rooms. He pushes it open, kicks off his boots and falls face first onto his bed, which makes an odd “oof!” noise as he lands. 

Immediately, Raz’ul scrambles up and off the bed. His covers move and shift, and then the half-orc’s head pops out from underneath them near the foot of his bed. The halfling rolls out from under the bed itself. They’re grinning widely but all Raz’ul can do is stare.

“Uh...hi,” he says finally when it becomes apparent that the two bards aren’t going to say anything first. “How, uh, how did you get in here?” The half-orc swings her legs around so she’s sitting on the bed comfortably.

“Randy’s really good at sneaking,” she says, “and I have a LOT of disguises.” 

“That’s so...cryptic, alright, uh, listen,” Raz’ul says. “You definitely can’t be in here for obvious reasons, so if y’all just leave now, I won’t have to call the guards, and we can all go to bed and forget this ever happened. Okay?” He turns to open the door for them but somehow the halfling, Randy, beat him to it. He’s blocking the exit with his arms crossed, attempting to look menacing. 

“We’ll leave when we’re ready,” he says. “But first, we have a proposition for you.” Raz’ul raises an eyebrow. 

“What kind of proposition?” he asks. The half-orc walks over to stand next to her bandmate.

“We want you to come with us,” she says. “You can travel with us and learn from Splash, and we can all get a grip on this ensemble magic together.”

“It’s pretty clear that we were supposed to meet,” Randy adds, “so, what do you say? Wanna get out of this stuffy mountain and finally live?” Randy and the half-orc give Raz’ul their best, msot enticing smiles, but Raz’ul is frozen. What they’re offering him, he’s suddenly realizing, is everything he has ever wanted--to be free from his father and brothers, to learn music and be able to play without fear. But it’s like he was thinking before, he can’t just leave. 

“I can’t just leave,” he says. “I have, like, responsibilities and stuff. I’m a prince. I can’t just leave.” Randy waves a hand dismissively.

“We sneak you out in the middle of the night, by the time everyone wakes up and notices you’re gone, we’ll be way far away. Trust me,” Randy says, but Raz’ul shakes his head. 

“No, I’m sorry, I really want to but I...I just can’t,” he says. “Please, just go. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” They don’t move away from the door, and the half-orc kneels down so she’s face to face with Raz’ul.

“Listen, sir--uh, lord? My lord?” she says. “It really doesn’t seem like you enjoy being here all that much. I mean, last night, when we met, you looked really afraid of being found at your own birthday party. And you said no one had wished you a happy birthday? That doesn’t really seem like the best way to live, if you ask me. You shouldn’t stay somewhere that’s not making you happy.” Raz’ul looks down at the floor and takes a deep breath that’s only slightly shaky.

“And if I go with you guys, you think that’ll make me happy?” he asks. 

“We all saw the look on your face after you played Splash’s lute last night,” Randy says. “You’re happy playing music. If you come with us, you’d never have to stop playing music.” 

Raz’ul thinks. He rubs his hands over his face. Then he looks back up at the bards. 

“And how, exactly, are you going to get me out of here?” he asks. Randy and the half-orc grin again. Randy gestures toward the bed.

“Come, sit, and listen to my amazing plan,” he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @fully-realized-creation
> 
> Twitter: @schwartzie7
> 
> I love you.


	7. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The escape and the return.

When Randy told Symbol his plan, before sneaking off to talk to Prince Raz’ul, he wasn’t exactly the most encouraging person.

“No,” he said. “That’s dumb and you’ll definitely get caught and get us all killed.” Randy groaned.

“Splash, come on!” he said. “It’s not dumb! It’ll totally work! Yashee thinks it will work!” Yashee nodded as Symbol shook his head. Randy sighed. “Do you have a better plan, then?”

“Yeah, I do,” Symbol said, “don’t kidnap the prince.” 

“It’s not kidnapping! He’s going to voluntarily come with us, we’re just helping him sneak out!” Randy argued, but Symbol just continued to shake his head. Randy crossed his arms. 

“Fine, whatever, we won’t help Prince Raz’ul leave here and we won’t learn ensemble magic and you won’t have the privilege of teaching three bards how to use said magic. Happy?” Symbol pretended to think for a second, and then nodded. Randy sighed again. Symbol stood and stretched and then gathered his belongings.

“I’m going to bed,” he said. “I suggest you two do the same. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And he left the storage room. Yashee and Randy didn’t even look at each other before they started to move, gathering their own gear. Yashee pulled out her disguise kit. Randy grinned.

“Let’s go,” he said.

\-------

The next morning, Randy, Yashee and Symbol make their way down to the great hall. They weren’t invited to perform for the third night, but they were still considered guests of the family and were free to enjoy the other bands and the feast alongside everyone else. They see Prince Raz’ul briefly but he doesn’t acknowledge them. 

Symbol and Co. enjoy their last day in Mount Tain, overall. They’re glad to have a good meal, and Randy manages to squirrel away some food from the feast and the storage room that will keep for a while. He’s still itching to steal at least a statue or some more jewelry, something that they can sell, but he doesn’t find a good opportunity to do so while the hall is so crowded and well guarded. The bands for the last day are okay, and sooner than they expect the celebration is over and all of the guests leave the hall.

For a while, the great hall is silent. The guards at the doors doze at their posts. The last servant sent to clean up after the feast leaves and retires to their room. The air is still, as if the mountain is holding its breath, waiting for something or someone. 

Suddenly there is movement by the grand tapestry near the throne. The fabric shakes and shifts, and then falls. There is whispering, shuffling, the sound of fabric being folded and dragged. 

Then the hall is silent once more. 

\-------

Symbol wakes up early the next day. The bands are required to leave Mount Tain by noon, but he wants to get his bards up and moving as quickly as possible. He washes and gets dressed, makes sure he has all of his instruments and supplies, and grabs his Bag of Holding. It feels oddly heavy this morning, but he assumes something just must have shifted last night, or Randy slipped more food than he thought in the bag. He’ll go through and rearrange everything when they stop for lunch. 

To his surprise, Randy and Yashee are already awake when he knocks on their door. The three bards walk down the main hallway, where they are sent off by the king and queen themselves. Symbol and Co. thank them for their generosity and hospitality, accept their pay, and exit the mountain. 

It takes them all a minute or two to readjust to the sun’s light, but once they do they can’t help but pause and take in deep breaths of the fresh air and appreciate the brilliant blue of the morning sky. Mount Tain was beautiful, but truly nothing can beat the fresh air of the open road. 

They set off down the path that led them here. They’re travelling back to the forest and then curving through it to a town called Lakeridge, where Symbol knows a tavern owner who can guarantee them a pretty good crowd to perform for, with decent pay and a room to sleep in for a night or two.

They reach the edge of the forest around noon and find a good sized clearing to stop and have lunch about a half hour later. The first thing Symbol does is drop the Bag of Holding. It lands with a heavy “thump!’ on the ground.

“Jeez, Randy, what did you put in there?” he asks, rubbing his shoulder. “I didn’t think you stole that much food.” Randy and Yashee glance at each other, and then Yashee opens the bag and rummages around in it as Randy rubs the back of his neck.

“It’s...not food,” he says. Yashee makes a noise of triumph and Symbol turns back to her in time to see her pull the tapestry from the great hall out of the bag. His jaw drops but before he can ask how they managed to steal it or chastise them for pulling such a stupid move, Yashee gently sets the tapestry down on the ground and unrolls it. And there, lying on the tapestry just above the woven portrait of his grandfather, is Prince Raz’ul, clutching an interesting looking guitar. He looks up at the human and waves. 

“Uh...hi. I can explain,” he says. Symbol takes off his hat, puts it over his face, and screams.

\-------

Symbol has his hands over his face, peering at his student through his fingers as he tells him how they managed to steal not only the tapestry but the prince and an ancient magical guitar axe from Mount Tain.

“It was surprisingly easy,” Randy says. “Raz’ul knew when the last servant would leave the hall and when it would be empty, and he let us in through the servant’s entrance. Yashee shimmied the tapestry off it’s hook and then we stored it in Raz’ul’s room. Then he told us that we couldn’t leave without this guitar, so I cast Disguise Self so I looked like a dwarf guard, Raz’ul led me to it and we took it. Then all we had to do was wrap them both up in the tapestry and store them in your bag. Simple.”

“Simple,” Symbol repeats, his voice hollow. He’s mentally counting every single way that plan could have gone wrong, and every single way the king and queen will torture them once they realize their son and their guitar are missing. 

Prince Raz’ul is standing next to Randy and Yashee, clutching the guitar and glancing between the bards nervously. Symbol rubs his hands over his face and then drops them to his sides.

“My lord, I am sorry that my students somehow coerced you into doing this,” he says. “We’ll turn back right away and face the consequences, of course. I’m sure we’ll meet the search party that’s no doubt been sent after you on the way there.” He picks up his bag again and goes to roll up the tapestry, but the prince steps in front of him. He’s still holding the guitar like a lifeline, but most of the nerves are gone from his face. 

“I’m not going back,” he says. “They didn’t coerce me into doing anything, I...I really WANTED to go. They just helped me see that I NEEDED to go. I, uh, my parents probably won’t even notice I’m gone, to tell you the truth. Not for a while, anyway. And the same thing with the axe. You have nothing to worry about. I just, uh, really need to learn how to use the axe. How to play it, I mean. I wanna learn ensemble magic. Please.” He stands there with his guitar. The tightness in his jaw betrays his nerves but Symbol can see the hopefulness and the eagerness in his gaze. A part of Symbol is still yelling at him to go right back to Mount Tain and turn his students in, but the sincerity in the prince’s voice is making him pause. The opportunity to teach bards about ensemble magic again, to get them started on it so young, would not only bring them glory and fame but power and harmony between themselves and the planes. He could shape them all to be the greatest bards of their generation. He sighs. 

“Well, come on then,” he says, walking down the path through the forest. “Whether someone’s coming after you or not, we still have a long way to go and a lot to teach you in that time. Let’s go.” From behind him, his students cheer and then they follow behind him like ducklings, chattering excitedly, pestering Raz’ul for more information about his mysterious guitar. 

Symbol rubs at his temple. He feels a headache coming on. 

\-------

 

It takes about an hour and a half before Raz’ul begins to complain. 

“Can’t we take just a five minute break?” he asks, again. Symbol shakes his head but doesn’t bother to respond. Any explanation that he had already gave--that they couldn’t risk anyone from Mount Tain following them, that someone in the city was expecting them by a certain day, just that they simply couldn’t stop--had been met with more whining. 

“You can ride on my shoulder for a little if you want, Raz’ul,” Yashee offers. Symbol thanks every god for her patience and her size. Raz’ul happily scrambles up and makes himself comfortable. 

“Hey, do you guys like potpourri?” Raz’ul asks, rifling through his bag.

“What’s that?” Yashee asks. Raz’ul grins. 

“It’s like, a bunch of stuff mixed together and it smells nice. It can help relax you, or you can use it to freshen up a room. I used to do it all the time at the castle and I managed to throw some of my supplies in my bag before we left.” He pulls out a small bowl and what looks like leaves of some sort. He crushes those up in the bowl, and throws in a few more small items. Once it’s done he hands it down to Yashee, who takes a sniff. 

“Oh! Uh, yeah, that’s...that’s nice, Raz’ul,” she says. “Uh, here, Randy, you wanna smell?” Randy takes the bowl, but he doesn’t even bring it up to his nose before he make a disgusted noise. 

“Whoa, what is in this?” he asks. “I thought you said this was supposed to smell nice, Raz’ul.” Raz’ul’s face falls. 

“I, uh, I guess I have to work on it some more,” he says. Randy passes the bowl back up to him. Raz’ul takes it, stares down at the contents, and then dumps the entire thing out behind Yashee. He puts the bowl back in his bag and is quiet for the rest of the day’s journey.

\-------

Raz’ul finds his voice again when they stop that evening to eat dinner and rest. Yashee makes a campfire and Symbol and Randy go through the food and sort out that evening’s rations. When Raz’ul gets handed a fistful of dried meat and a roughly hewn mug filled with something that might be ale, his eyebrows go up.

“This is it?” he asks. 

“Uh, yeah,” Randy answers. “What, do you think we get feasts in castles every night?”

“No! No, it’s just, uh,” Raz’ul says, “didn’t you steal like, a bunch of stuff from Mount Tain? Or did you just take the dried food?”

“Well, nothing else would keep on the road,” Yashee says, biting off a piece of jerky. “Sometimes we catch fish if we’re near a river, though!” Raz’ul can’t help but grimace a little, but he takes the meat and the mug regardless. He can’t say it’s the worst meal he’s ever had, but it’s definitely nowhere near enough. 

“Could I have some more? Of the jerky or whatever?” he asks. Symbol shakes his head.

“We have to ration out our supplies until we get to Lakeridge and can buy more,” he says. “It’s not always filling, I know, but we have to deal with what we have.” Raz’ul nods slowly, but every once in a while his gaze flicks to the food bag sitting next to Symbol. The other three bards are chatting idly, sipping their ale. Raz’ul shifts ever so slightly closer to the bag, and then carefully reaches his hand out toward it. Faster than he can realize, Symbol’s hand is closed around his wrist, pulling his hand up and away from the bag. Symbol is giving him a cold stare. 

Raz’ul swallows hard and his hands start to shake. He wills himself not to have a panic attack right now, focusing on taking deep, steady breaths. He carefully extracts his hand from Symbol’s. He looks down at his lap and folds his hands together. After a moment, Yashee breaks the tense silence with a slight cough.

“So, uh, do you have a bedroll, Raz’ul, or do you need to borrow one?” she asks. Raz’ul looks at her. 

“Uh, what’s a bedroll?” Randy snorts. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a rolled up piece of fabric. When he unfurls it, Raz’ul can see it’s slightly padded. Randy gestures towards it.

“Bedroll,” he says, and then lays down on top of it. “Good night.” He pats his stomach, rolls over on his side, and is snoring in minutes. Yashee and Symbol both take out their bedrolls as well, and Yashee takes out an extra.

“It’s probably a little long for you,” she says, “but it’ll work until we get to town and can buy you one of your own.” Raz’ul nods in thanks and takes the bedroll carefully. He unrolls it and dusts off the top as best as he can before laying down. It smells like mud and wet grass. Raz’ul feels something sharp poking his back so he shifts a little directly onto another rock. He moves and tosses and turns all night, trying to get comfortable. 

Raz’ul can’t really believe it, but he thinks he misses Mount Tain.

\-------

Symbol and Co. and Raz’ul are three days into their journey. Three days of smaller and smaller meals, of smelling worse by the hour, of blisters on his feet and bugs in his hair. Raz’ul is tired and annoyed, and it shows.

On the second day of their trip, Symbol used part of their lunch break to try and teach Raz’ul the basics of guitar playing. The dwarf was so exhausted from his rough sleep the night before, however, that he could barely concentrate. His fingers were clumsy; he couldn’t seem to pick up the chords and strumming pattern Symbol was trying to teach him as easily as he could in Mount Tain. When it finally seemed like Raz’ul had it, Symbol asked Randy and Yashee to play with him, to see if they could activate the ensemble magic again. By this point, though, Randy and Yashee were so bored and annoyed with Raz’ul that they couldn’t bring themselves to put enough effort into the song. They were out of tune and off-beat. 

They resumed their trek in sour moods.

It didn’t go much better that evening at dinner. Or the next morning at breakfast. By the time they stop for lunch, tensions are high. 

Raz’ul barely eats anything and the ale that Symbol has been carrying around is way past stale now. His stomach hurts, he’s tired and the last thing he wants to do is touch Axe Usumptin and disappoint himself and everyone else again. But Symbol insists, literally pressing the axe into his hands. Symbol goes through a simple chord progression on his lute. 

“Alright, your turn,” he says. Raz’ul sighs and gets his fingers in the approximately correct position. He strums once, twice, and then Symbol reaches out a hand to mute the strings, 

“Nope, try again,” he says, but Raz’ul puts the guitar down next to him and stands, his hands clenched into fists.

“I am not going to try again! I’m done with this!” he yells. Randy and Yashee glance over from where they’re sitting, eyes wide. “I thought we all had some magical connection that was supposed to make this easy! This sucks, Symbol! We suck!” At this, Randy stands. 

“Whoa, now, Prince Raz’ul,” he says, “I definitely don’t think this is a group situation here. Me and Yashee aren’t the problem.” Raz’ul turns to face him, pure rage all over his face. 

“Really? You guys REALLY think that you aren’t an issue here?” he says. “Who are the ones who convinced me in the first place to come out here and live like this, huh?”

“You agreed to it!” Randy shoots back. “You could’ve said no! You could’ve stayed in that miserable mountain living your miserable life being ignored!”

“And instead I’m living a miserable life out here!” Raz’ul yells. Symbol finally steps in, literally, getting between the two fighting bards.

“Raz’ul, you’re just not used to this yet,” he says. “It’s hard to be accustomed to one way of living and switch to one that’s so different. You just need more time, and more practice--”

“I don’t want more practice!” the prince shouts. Symbol frowns.

“Then you’re never going to get better.” Symbol’s voice is still calm as he stares down at the furious dwarf. “If you’re not willing to put in the work, then you will get nothing back. No matter what you do.”

“I have been putting in the work,” Raz’ul growls. Symbol shakes his head.

“Clearly you haven’t,” Symbol said, “or we’d be having a different conversation right now.” Raz’ul grits his teeth but says nothing. 

“You have a choice, now, I think” the human says. “Stay here, be willing to learn and adapt, and travel with us and become a bard. Or go back home, to your comfy, empty life. We won’t stop you.” There’s a tense moment of silence.

Then Raz’ul grabs his bag and the axe.

“Screw you guys,” he says. “I’m going back to Mount Tain.” And he sets off back toward where they came. Randy scoffs.

“Good riddance,” he says. Symbol nods, but Yashee doesn’t say anything. She’s staring after Raz’ul, acutely aware of the gnawing emptiness in her chest that only grows bigger as the dwarf gets farther and farther away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @fully-realized-creation
> 
> Twitter: @schwartzie7
> 
> I love you.


	8. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harmony out of dissonance. The finale crescendos.

Yashee spends the remainder of their short rest thinking. She keeps glancing at the space in the trees where Prince Raz’ul ran off. Right as Splash is about to tell them they need to move forward, she stands, picks up her bag, and sets off after the dwarf.

“Yashee! Where are you going?” Splash yells after her. 

“I’m going after Raz’ul,” she yells back over her shoulder. She hears soft little footsteps racing behind her and then Randy is grabbing her hand, trying to pull her back toward their teacher. 

“Why? He doesn’t want to be with us, we can’t change his mind,” he says. Yashee stops and turns, lifting her hand with Randy still attached. He dangles there, eye level with her.

“You made him think he doesn’t want to be with us,” she says. Quiet rage simmers in her voice. “You know we need him, and he needs us. Not just for the magic or whatever. You’ve felt how empty we are without him. We’re destined to all be together. He can’t go back to that castle, and sit there and be sad. He could be really happy with us. He needs support, and love, and we can give that to him.” She sets Randy down gently and continues her way back toward Mount Tain. “I’ll find you guys once I find Prince Raz’ul.” And then she’s gone. 

Splash and Randy stare after her for a moment, and then look at each other. 

“I guess we kinda were assholes, huh?” Randy says finally. Splash nods. He picks up his bag. 

“Come on,” he says, “we can have a long talk about reforming our ways while we keep heading toward Lakeridge. Yashee will find us.”

\-------

Yashee is good at a lot of things, and one of those things is tracking. She’s travelled and lived in enough wild areas that she knows how to look for food and friends alike, so it doesn’t take her very long to find Raz’ul’s tracks and follow them directly off the path that they’ve been on for days and deep into the woods. Anxiety gnaws at her as the foliage grows thicker, but she has no problem following the awkward, crashing path Raz’ul must’ve taken. 

After a couple of hours of trudging, Yashee hears a strange whimper from her right. She freezes. After a long moment, she hears it again. It doesn’t sound like any animal she recognizes. Then, there’s a sob and her heart skips a beat--it must be Raz’ul. 

She takes off through the underbrush toward the sound and emerges into a fairly large clearing. On the far side, curled up against a tree with the Axe Usumptin next to him, is Prince Raz’ul. He looks up when he hears the half-orc burst out of the treeline. His eyes are red and there are fresh tear-tracks on his face. His clothes are dirty and torn. He scrambles to stand and gather his belongings. Yashee holds her hands up and doesn’t move; she recognizes a frightened creature when she sees one, and she doesn’t have the time to chase Raz’ul again. Raz’ul also stops, still crying slightly and breathing heavily. Yashee is about to speak, but the prince beats her to it.

“Why are you here?” he asks, so quiet she almost can’t hear him. “I thought you guys didn’t want me around anymore.” Yashee puts her hands down and takes slow, tentative steps toward Raz’ul. 

“Raz’ul, I’m so sorry,” she says as she moves closer. She puts as much sincerity as she can in her voice. “I’m so sorry we made you think that. But we need you. Really, we do, and maybe Splash and Randy don’t really realize that yet, but they will. We just need you to come back, please.” Raz’ul shakes his head and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. 

“No, you saw how it was, I’ve only been making you guys worse, I can’t--” He cuts himself off with a sob just as Yashee reaches him. She sits down in front of Raz’ul and folds her hands in her lap. 

“Can I ask you a questions?” she says quietly. Raz’ul sniffles. 

“You just did,” he says bitterly, and Yashee laughs a little. Raz’ul looks down. “But you can ask another one, I guess.”

“Why do you want to go back to Mount Tain?” she asks. “It didn’t really seem like the best place for you, so...why would you rather be there than out here?” Raz’ul doesn’t say anything for a while, and then he sits down, too. 

“I don’t want to go back,” he says. “I would rather be anywhere else than there. But...I know how to survive there. All my life, I’ve lived like...like a deer, or something, an animal that knows it’s in constant danger, and it has to try to live it’s life as normally as possible even though at any moment, something can go wrong. I don’t know how to do that out here, you saw, how I couldn’t even handle eating less food and sleeping on the ground. I can’t survive out here like y’all can.” Yashee’s heart hurts for the prince. She tentatively reaches out a hand and puts it on Raz’ul’s shoulder.

“Homes shouldn’t be places where you just ‘survive’, Raz’ul,” she says. “Homes are supposed to be good places, with people who care about you. You’re not supposed to survive there. You’re supposed to live, and learn, and love. That’s what we can do for you, Raz’ul, I swear. I know we all got off on the wrong foot. Maybe Randy and I should’ve prepared you a little more for what life on the road would be like. But we can’t let you go back to Mount Tain and live like you were. It wouldn’t be right.” Raz’ul leans back against the tree again. 

“I dunno, Yashee,” he says. “Maybe it’s really not for me, not right now anyway. Maybe...I dunno, maybe I should stay out here by myself first. Maybe I’ll become a druid, really become one with nature, you know?” Yashee chuckles. 

“If you really want to, then I won’t stop you,” she says, “but I really wish you’d come back with us. We’ve all seen what you can do with that guitar. We can all create some really great stuff together. And I’ll make sure Randy and Splash are more patient with you. Bands work together to improve, and that’s what we’ll do, if you’ll stay with us.” 

Raz’ul takes a minute to think about it. He wipes away the last of his tears and looks back up at Yashee. 

Then he nods.

\-------

It’s been a few hours since Yashee left to chase after Raz’ul, and Symbol and Randy are honestly starting to get worried. They sort of assumed that she wouldn’t be able to find him and come back, or that she would find him and he would refuse to return and she’d come back. But with how long she’s taking, they’re slowly realizing that she was serious about finding him and bringing him back, and all in all, it was taking a lot longer than they expected. 

“Should we...go after them?” he asks. Symbol shakes his head. He had thought about it, but he knows their presence would only make things worse.

“Yashee is the best person to calm him down,” he says. “She’ll be back soon, I’m sure. By dinner, at the very latest.”

They stop for dinner and Yashee is still nowhere to be found. They finish eating and she still isn’t back yet. They delay putting out the campfire and going to sleep for as long as they can, but eventually exhaustion wins out. They fall asleep fairly quickly, but their sleep is uneasy, their fear and apprehension about Yashee and Raz’ul making it difficult for them to get any true rest.

Randy and Symbol aren’t asleep for long when there is the sudden sound of a twig snapping nearby. Symbol is up in a flash, recorders out and ready. Randy hides behind him, one hand on his daggers. They wait and listen. Another twig snaps, closer now, and the bushes to their right rustle ominously. Both bards are ready to attack. The rustling get louder and then--

Yashee and Raz’ul practically fall out of the foliage, just barely catching themselves before they face-plant onto the forest floor. Yashee dusts herself off and helps Raz’ul stand. He looks up at Symbol and Randy. 

“Uh...hi,” he says, and faster than he can see Randy is rushing forward. Yashee catches the halfling just before he can tackle the prince to the ground. Raz’ul looks ready to bolt again, but Yashee grabs a hold of the back of his shirt. She flashes a sharp look at Randy, and he frowns but goes limp in her grasp. 

“I think some apologies are in order,” she says. “Who wants to go first?”

“I don’t have to apologize for anything,” Randy says as Raz’ul says, “I will.” Randy looks at him in surprise. 

“I’m sorry for, uh. Well, for everything,” the dwarf says. “I was rude, and selfish, and, uh, didn’t understand what I was really getting myself into. But I’m willing to learn, about music and about how to...how to live out here. With you guys. If you’ll have me. So, yeah.” He stands there, nervously clutching the neck of Usumptin. Yashee turns toward Randy and Symbol. Her expression says, “It’s your turn.” Randy sighs. 

“Alright, alright,” he says. “Raz’ul, I’m...sorry I yelled at you. And said all of those things. I really don’t want you to go back to Mount Tain. I really do want to play music with you, and learn ensemble magic. If you still want to. And if Splash wants to teach us. None of us had the best attitudes before but...if you’re willing to work, then so am I.” Raz’ul smiles at the halfling, and Randy can’t help but smile back. The three of them all turn toward Symbol, who’s standing near the cold embers of their fire. His arms are crossed and his face is stony. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he says, and then lays back down on his bedroll. Yashee puts Randy back down on the ground. He gives Yashee and Raz’ul a nod and then goes to lay down himself. Yashee sets up her and Raz’ul’s bedrolls. She gives him a gentle pat on the back.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “Splash will come around. Once he sees how serious you are, you’ll be back on his good side in no time.” She lays down and turns on her side, her back to Raz’ul.

The prince sits down on his bedroll, but he can’t bring himself to try and sleep just yet. He stays awake, thinking, until he’s certain that the other bards are asleep. Then he creeps off into the forest. 

\-------

As soon as the sun illuminates the bards’ resting area, they’re awake. Each of them spend a few moments stretching, and rubbing the last remnants of sleep from their eyes. Symbol, Yashee and Randy all sit up, to find Raz’ul, already awake, sitting by a feeble fire, soaking wet and shivering. 

“Whoa, what happened to you?” Yashee says. She digs a blanket out of her bag and throws it over the dwarf’s shoulders. His teeth gradually stop chattering. 

“Uh, I found a river last night,” he says, using the blanket to pat his hair dry. “I thought that I’d catch us some fish for breakfast but I, uh, fell in. But then on my way back I found these!” He grabs something sitting next to him and holds out four large eggs. “So I thought we could have eggs instead.” He sits there for a moment, water still dripping from his nose and an eager and hopeful look on his face. 

Randy starts to laugh. Which sets off Yashee, and then Raz’ul, and finally even Symbol has to smile. Yashee takes the eggs and Randy gets a frying pan out of Symbol’s bag, setting up a few sticks around the fire to hold it up. They both start talking to each other and to the dwarf as Yashee cracks the eggs. 

Symbol sits back and just looks at Raz’ul. He realizes what this seemingly minor gesture really means--Raz’ul truly is willing to put in the effort to adapt to their living situation and work with them instead of against them. He wonders what exactly Yashee said to him to cause this change; he’ll have to ask her later. Still, it’s clear Raz’ul wants to be here, and Symbol is a fair man. If the dwarf is willing to work, than so is Symbol. Raz’ul has a long way to go, sure, if he can’t even catch a fish, but they’ll get there, Symbol is certain. 

Raz’ul looks up and catches Symbol’s eye. His teacher simply nods at him. The dwarf smiles and nods back, and then turns back to watching Yashee cook their breakfast.

Symbol’s gaze wanders around their campsite until it lands on Axe Usumptin. He blinks and squints and then picks up the guitar, looking at it carefully. He looks back at the dwarf.

“Raz’ul,” he says, “you need new strings.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @fully-realized-creation
> 
> Twitter: @schwartzie7
> 
> I love you.


End file.
